The Leader of Lost Souls
by ElvenGreen98
Summary: A girl with a troubled past, an artifact of Dark Power, and strange occurences at Hogwarts. What do these three have in common, and can they find out before its too late?
1. Prologue

Fear of the Elements

By: ElvenGreen

Disclaimer: 

ElvenGreen: I do not own Harry Potter or ---

J.K.R.: Damn right, you don't.

ElvenGreen: _OR_ any of the characters therein. 

J.K.R.: Yep. All mine. Every last one of them. *cackles madly*

ElvenGreen: but not Katya, or Dear Alan Rickman

J.K.R.: No, thank God.

ElvenGreen: Hey! Katya is a good character!

J.KR.: I wasn't talking about Katya.

ElvenGreen: Meanie.

Disclaimer 2: I don't own JKR either. And no, she never said that, nor do I pretend she did. Nuff Said.

Author's Note: This yet another rewrite of Fear of the Elements. I hope I will keep this one this time. Anyway. Read and Review. Prologue written while listening to Evanescence. Not that that makes any difference.

Prologue: The Meeting in June

"Well, I see that we are all here. I have some rather important news to share. Lemondrop, anyone?"

The faculty and staff of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry all murmured a "no thank you" to Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster. He gave them a look of understanding, his eyes twinkling. There was a feeling of anxiety about the room. Indeed, all could tell that Dumbledore had some news to deliver. 

"Right. First, we shall discuss the curriculum for the coming year. Professor Pothead --- " Dumbledore nodded in the direction of a mustached man in a leather jacket " --- has decided to stay with us, therefore, Producing Ordinary Things Simply shall be an offered course next term."

Dumbledore then continued, informing the professors who would be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts that year, as well as a few other minor points and details. When he finally ended this spiel, the meeting room was bursting with tension. 

Dumbledore was gazing merrily about the room when Minerva finally cut through the apprehension. 

"Professor Dumbledore, what is the important news?"

Dumbledore smiled.

"We have a transfer student."

A collective sigh spread throughout the chamber. 

Dumbledore frowned at this; he knew they wouldn't be sighing in a moment.

"From which school?" Severus Snape inquired, keeping a tone of boredom in his voice.

"Durmstrang Academy."

The relief began to fade.

"Her name is Ekaterina Keselovski. She is a nineteen year-old from Romania."

"What Year Level?" Professor McGonagall asked. 

"Year Seven," said Albus.

"Why is she so old then?" Sybil Trelawney asked.

"Well, due to extenuating circumstances, she entered Durmstrang at thirteen as a First Year Level pupil. Other unusual situations are involved with her transfer, but Hogwarts shall see her through them."

"What situations would those be, Albus?" Minerva asked.

"Miss Keselovski has been expelled from three schools, previously."

The chamber went through a silent uproar. Every teacher thought, _How could he take a student who is like that?_ or some variant of that thought. They were all aware of Dumbledore's consuming sense of hospitality, but to do this? This was beyond its usual state. 

The only people who did not disagree with his decision in such a militant fashion were Rubeus Hagrid, Minerva McGonagall, and Severus Snape.

Hagrid went right out and said, "Lord bless yah, Dumbledore."

Minerva internally sighed, _Well, he's done it again._

And Severus Snape thought, _Oh good Lord. Another Potter. _

Dumbledore smiled at Hagrid and continued.

__

"She is a brilliant student. Particularly good at Potions, if I recall correctly. Professor Ciu had great hopes for her," Dumbledore said, referring to Durmstrang's Potions teacher. Dumbledore gave Snape a pointed glance before continuing.

"She will arriving in August. As she does not have any living relations here, and she has not lived in England for a considerable amount of time, I find it necessary …. "

__

Meanwhile, Severus Snape was not listening. No, he was still complaining in his mind. 

__

Another headstrong, insufferable brat. Probably will be a Gryffin ---

Severus' thoughts were interrupted by the mention of his name. He looked about the room. Everyone was looking at him, as if they were expecting something. It was unsettling him significantly.

"Beg pardon?" he asked finally, lifting his water glass to take a sip.

"Severus," Dumbledore said, "you've just been nominated to be Miss Keselovski's mentor."

Snape choked.

"WHAT?" he exclaimed between coughs. 

Professor Sprout giggled at his obvious surprise, Minerva gave him a little smile, and Dumbledore had that damnable twinkle in his eyes. 

"Are you all insane?" he asked, calmer this time. "Who suggested I be this girl's mentor?"

"I did," said Minerva merrily.

Snape gave her a death-glare from hell.

Now, one would try to imagine the reasoning Minerva McGonagall had running through her head in this decision. One would also think that she would not feed a possible Gryffindor to the wolves, but Minerva, like many other people was subject to stereotypes, and Durmstrang was notorious for producing Slytherin-like students. Therefore, she believed Ekaterina Keselovski would be sorted into Slytherin and should begin establishing a mentorship with her future Head-of-House as soon as possible.

Dumbledore fiddled about in his robes, then pulled out a red bag.

"Skittles, Severus?" he said, holding out the bag. 

Professor Sprout chuckled again as Snape turned the death-glare to Dumbledore. 

"No," he snapped. 

Dumbledore shrugged and raised his eyebrows, as if to say, "Suit yourself." Then, he put the bag of Skittles into his left breast-pocket. 

Suddenly, while still looking in the pocket, Dumbledore exclaimed, "Ah!" and pulled a file from the pocket. Goodness knows how he fit it in there, but he was Dumbledore after all. Everyone knew he had tons of tricks up his sleeve --- no pun intended. 

Dumbledore opened the file.

"I nearly forgot. Here is a photograph of Miss Keselovski. Muggle, of course," he said, passing a little rectangular card to McGonagall. She took a long look at it.

"My goodness," she mused, "she apparently shares your tastes, Severus."

"I am sure she does not," Snape protested.

But then Minerva passed the photo to Severus. 

Ekaterina Keselovski was an extreme, although healthy, pale. She also had black hair and black clothing. However, her eyes were hazel, and she was smiling, which was something Snape never did. 

"Well I don't see any resemblance at all," he said, tossing the photo onto the table. 

"So, we all are agreed, then? Severus shall be Miss Keselovski's mentor."

"No, we are certainly not all agreed," Snape rebuttaled coolly. "I have not agreed. You know I am not the best person for this."

"On the contrary, Severus, I believe you are perfect for this task," said Dumbledore.

Snape could see that he was not getting out of this one. 

"Fine," he growled.

"Good," said Dumbledore, "it's settled then. This meeting is adjourned."

Snape immediately stood, planning to confront Dumbledore about this in private. But one smile from the old man was enough to dissuade Severus. 

He walked from the room and down to his dark, dreary dungeon, hoping to find some way out of this.


	2. Chapter One

The Leader of Lost Souls

By ElvenGreen

Disclaimer: I own Katya. That's it. 

Author's Note: Just a warning, I am not good with British-isms, and I don't do British spellings. I am sorry to say that my fic will probably sound very American. Anyhow, for those who are wondering, Katya is Ekaterina, and she has a very deep and strange history which will become known throughout the fic. So hold on for the ride, its quite emotional.

Chapter One: Meet Ekaterina

Severus rapped on the door twice, ignoring the stylish, lion's head knocker. A voice came from the other side.

"We don't want any Girl Scout cookies!" said a boy.

"Davie!" a girl shouted.

Severus heard a the fading padding of running steps and the turn of a door-lock.

A girl, presumably the one who had shouted, opened the door, and gave Severus the once-over.

"Why, hello there," she said flirtatiously.

Severus was absolutely disgusted. This girl was still underage, fifteen by the look of her. He gave her the scowl --- the one he gave to Longbottom, as well as other incompetent students he disliked. The girl was not disheartened.

"I'm Trixy, what's your name?" she persisted.

"I'm Severus Snape, now could I please be allowed inside?" he said coldly.

"Suure," Trixy drawled, stepping gracefully to the side.

Once Severus was inside, Trixy gave him that terrible once-over again and walked on, trying to look provocative and sensual. The result was only further disgust on Severus' part. After walking down a very long, and very pink foyer, Snape and that Trixy girl entered a rather large Great Room. It was filled with children, older and younger, running around as if the room was some sort of playground. The Great Room was painted an overwhelming shade of purple, with a border depicting millions of purple flowers, and the staircase in the corner had a dark purple carpet on it. It was a bit too quaint for Severus, and completely too cheerful. If he had been on edge when that revolting fifteen year-old made even more revolting advances, it was nothing compared to his anxiousness now. It was for that reason that he was forced to conceal his near-aneurysm when Trixy spoke next.

"So," she said, "what's your favorite se --- "

"Beatrix!" an elderly woman cut in. "Come here right now!"

The woman began lecturing Beatrix.

Oh, Severus knew what she had intended to ask him, and it completely disturbed him. What sort of children were kept at this place, anyhow? None that he had ever instructed, that was for certain. If he had indeed taught that girl, she would be running and hiding the minute she heard he was coming, not making comments of a sexual nature in reference to him. He knew that all the young wizards and witches in this institution were schooled there, though in Severus Snape's opinion, they should not be schooled at all. But that didn't change the fact that he was here, and that a fifteen year-old had just tried to get in his pants. 

Something else that would never had happened if his name was known in this place occurred. A little boy came up to Severus.

"Don't worry," he said, "she flirts with everyone. It's part of her guilt complex," the boy said, matter-of-fact-like. 

"You shut the fuck up, _Theodore,_" Trixy shouted. 

"My _name_ is _Jack_!" Theodore cried.

"My name is fucking Jack," Trixy mocked.

"_Language, _Trixy! And Jack, stop antagonizing. Now both of you go to your rooms, this instant." the woman reprimanded. 

The children ran up the stairs. Then the woman turned and came over to Snape, offering him her hand to shake.

"Professor Snape? Hello. I'm Deborah Nelson."

Snape gave her hand a firm shake, and said, none-too-kindly, "You're the owner of this establishment?"

"Yes," she confirmed, ignoring his coldness. "And you're come to fetch Ekaterina, right? Well, I've a few things to take care of before she can go, but she's over there. You can try to talk to her …" 

Deborah pointed across the room. In the window seat sat a girl with waist-length dread locks. She had her knees drawn up to her chest, her head turned, looking out the window. There was an instrument case right beside her.

Snape had no intention of trying to make conversation with that. He had heard from Dumbledore that she hadn't spoken a word, except to participate minimally in classes, since October of the previous year. Severus highly doubted that she would speak to him, and he wouldn't have wanted her to speak anyhow. He preferred his students silent; it made classes much less unpleasant. 

When Deborah realized Severus wasn't planning to do what she had suggested, she frowned and gestured to a sofa.

"Or you could sit down."

Snape chose to sit. He lowered himself slowly onto the enormous violet sofa. From here, he could see the girl's face. She could see her own face, reflecting like a watermark in the window before her. 

The last time she had taken a photo was when she was sixteen. Now she was nineteen and she felt quite different. She looked different as well. She was paler than she had been, she had glasses now, and she no longer smiled. Well, of course she no longer smiled. She was an orphan after all, and a delinquent. That was why she was in this "rehabilitation center." It was more like a comfortable prison. Wizard prison or not, it was still a prison. Ekaterina wanted more than anything to leave, to break free, to be completely alone in her misery. 

But she couldn't have run. Her wand had been snapped in half upon her expulsion from Durmstrang, and Deborah had her broom and her Gringott's key, as well as her texts and Potions Kit. The only things that Deborah didn't have were Ekaterina's robes and her cello. And Ekaterina could never play her cello again. Not ever.

Ekaterina suddenly realized that someone was watching her. She felt the gaze pricking underneath her skin, fighting to alert her. 

Ekaterina looked away from the window. There was a man sitting in that hideous purple sofa. He had black, knarly hair, black eyes that chilled her to the bone marrow, and liquid-paper white skin, even whiter than hers. He looked to be about thirty-five or thirty-six years old. _Ah, _Ekaterina thought bitterly, _my mentor._

She didn't want a mentor. She craved solitude. She knew her solitude would be compromised by this so-called mentor. She knew he was really come sort of baby-sitter, sent by that Headmaster to make sure she didn't blow anything or anyone up while in London. Also sent there to take her to places she already knew how to find.

Ekaterina narrowed her eyes at him, sending him a glare to rival his own. Then she turned back to the window, and watched the heather wriggle on the moor like worms being burnt up by the sunlight after rain. 

She hated the country. In Romania, Ekaterina had lived in the capital. When she'd lived in England, she'd lived in London. She was quite accustomed to everything being suffocatingly busy, therefore this venomous tranquility was killing her. 

Severus Snape looked down at the instrument case just as Ekaterina Keselovski switched her glare to the window again. The case looked to hold a cello, and had various patches and stickers all over it, hiding its black leather surface from the world. One patch grabbed his attention in particular. It said in cursive writing, "Elisabeta Murciu."

Snape looked up at his charge again. _So, the cello was her mother's,_ he thought. 

Ekaterina felt the pricking in her flesh again. She sighed and turned, beginning to become impatient. Her mentor smirked at her. She glowered at him, swung her legs over the window seat and walked over to the massive violet sofa. Giving the man one more glare, she turned about and plopped down right next to him. She crossed her arms over her chest and stared glacially at him. Most would have been frightened off by this, but Snape was no pansy when it came to people's scowls. He was quite accustomed to them and didn't care one whit about them. Snape was also quite accustomed to responding to them in the best way possible. He smirked at her. 

The entire time, Ekaterina was thinking, _what an ass._

And all the time, Snape was thinking, _what an insufferable brat._

In the middle of this staring contest of sorts, Deborah returned. 

"Ekaterina," she said, saccharine. 

Ekaterina turned slowly, her eyes boring into Snape's, then Deborah's. Deborah only talked in an even sweeter fashion. One could almost visualize the honey oozing from her mouth, open wide and baring teeth in a so-called motherly smile. 

"Have you eaten breakfast yet?"

Ekaterina nodded. 

"You know I can tell when you lie."

Now Ekaterina had not been lying. She ate a muffin earlier with some milk. But Ekaterina would have had to talk to make this known, and she wouldn't speak --- not to Deborah.

Therefore, Ekaterina just rolled her eyes and got up. She went to Deborah, who gave her a nod, and that non-maternal grin. Deborah cursed Ekaterina with another muffin, and, this time, a glass of orange juice. Ekaterina tore a bit off and ate it slowly, then took a gulp of orange juice. Deborah's grin widened.

"Good. You finish up while I fetch your things."

Deborah left, opening a door and going down the steps the action revealed. Ekaterina listened for the footsteps to fade and then took one disgusted look at the muffin. She picked it up and walked over to Snape, holding it out to him.

"I have already eaten," he snarled.

Ekaterina gave him a look as if to say, "How can you be that stupid?" Then Snape realized what she wanted, and pulled out his wand. He normally would have rejected a plea for a favor, but he was one that did not condone gluttony, and therefore preferring this apparent anorexic behavior, he tapped the muffin.

"_Evanesco,_" he muttered. 

Upon the disappearance of the muffin, Ekaterina went back to her juice and finished it. 

When Deborah returned, she carried a trunk, a backpack, and a Gringott's key suspended around a black cord. 

Ekaterina walked over to Deborah, her hand outstretched. Deborah didn't give Ekaterina her things immediately. Instead she attempted a pep talk.

"Now you be good, and don't give Professor Snape too much trouble, and good luck."

Ekaterina just rolled her eyes and kept her hand where it was. Finally, Deborah released her things, therefore relinquishing her authority over Ekaterina. She moved her braids aside and swung her backpack onto herself, then pulled her key over her head. She went back to the window seat and picked up her cello in her right hand. Her trunk went to her left. Snape stood up and moved for the fireplace.

"We're not hooked up to the Floo Network. It makes it to easy for the children to run away. There is a portkey, however, just down the road. It'll take you to the Leaky Cauldron."

Severus gave the woman a curt nod and went to the door.

"Goodbye, Ekaterina," said Deborah, giving the stiff girl a hug.

Ekaterina only gave her an empty look and followed Snape through the door, dragging her trunk behind her. 

Author's Note: you like? Review.


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